Oh captain, my captain

You steer the ship through storms we don't even know are raging. You speak last, but think first.. Your hands are calloused—not just from work, But from holding things you never got to drop. We ask for provision, And you show up—again and again. But we forget the cost. Not just in bills or broken sleep, But in the silence that eats men alive. You make the hard calls. Not always right. Not always praised. But necessary. Because someone has to be the wall when the world collapses. You wear armor no one sees. And when it cracks, You smile. Because that’s what we expect. A smile. Not a scar. Not a sigh. Not a story of when you almost gave up. We celebrate mothers—and rightly so. But sometimes, we forget The man who chose to stay, When leaving would've been easier. Who led, even without applause. Who loved, even when it looked like discipline. Who stayed awake, so others could rest. You—Father, Leader, Shelter, Guide— You’ve been so many things, With so little thanks. And still, You sail on. Oh captain, my captain… Happy Father’s Day. We see you now.